Lucifer's Condo, LA, Wednesday

[okteiviakom]

For all that Octavia, Duke and Lucifer were in Los Angeles under a looming sense of foreboding like time was about to run out, there also seemed to be nothing but time. Octavia was doing her best to adjust, to build new routines away from the island. Going back to the ship to take care of her plants, finding hiking trails she liked (whenever the weather didn't feel like it was out to kill her), trying to -- just trying to stay busy. Keep active.

But some days the body felt like it needed to rest. And sometimes Octavia even gave into that instead of pushing forward. Today was one of those, so she was reading a book in Lucifer's living room, her back against the floor and her feet up on the couch.

Well, she was pretending to read, anyway.

See, there were downsides to letting herself be still - like how much louder it made all kinds of thoughts she'd been ignoring and repressing and holding back. Thoughts about things like Heaven, and Hell, and how it was July 2nd again and she didn't even know if Bellamy was alive like her or dead like their mother.

(Where was their mother?)

There was a certain kind of loneliness that didn't touch her often, but when it did, it hurt.

But at least she was holding her book the correct way up?

[ooc: NFB for distance, but open for all the usual.]

Comments

[betterthanaplan]

Duke nodded. “I picked up some supplies. A notebook, fancy pencils, these chalk-things called pastels. I used to have fun doing little cartoons and things as a kid on the school chalkboards, so they seemed like a good bet.”

[okteiviakom]

"What makes pencils fancy?"

It was a gentle sort of curiosity. Encouraging him, almost.

[betterthanaplan]

"Mostly the price, I think," Duke said. He didn't want to pull away from her, so he ended up kind of flailing at the bag with his foot, trying to drag it over so he could show her. "But the lead has different levels of softness, so you can get different kinds of lines out of them."

Which was a reasonable paraphrase of what the clerk at the art store had told him.

[okteiviakom]

Octavia watched his efforts with a faintly but fondly amused look on her face. "So... Hopefully not just the price, then?"

[betterthanaplan]

"Hopefully. Though thankfully," he adopted a posh accent, not unlike Lucifer's, "money is no object."

He managed to hook the plastic bag's handle on the toe of his boot and dragged it over. Then had to put his yoga skills to good use trying to drop it on his chest without letting go of their clasped hands.

"This is getting ridiculous."

Boy, what do you mean 'getting'?

[okteiviakom]

Yeah, Octavia couldn't help her soft snort.

"Think that ship has already sailed, jaka."

[betterthanaplan]

Duke sighed dramatically and let go with one hand so he could actually pull the bag off his foot.

"Now I get to show off my stuff, though."

[okteiviakom]

"Yeah, you do," Octavia agreed. "But do you want your other hand back, too?"

Felt like a reasonable thing to offer.

[betterthanaplan]

“Nah,” Duke decided. “I think it’s good where it is.” He tilted his head up and set the bag on his chest, then dug in and pulled out a pack of pencils. “Look, they got little letters and numbers on ‘em.”

[okteiviakom]

Octavia held his hand against her chest just a little more firmly. Just because she could.

(She liked that he hadn't reclaimed it.)

She raised her eyebrows a little, looking the pencils over. "Does... that make them better?"

[betterthanaplan]

“It makes them . . . fancy. Like, the pencils we had in school were all supposed to have the same lead in them. ‘Number two pencils.’ But this one, 6B, that’s a whole other kind of lead. An art pencil, not a school pencil.”

[okteiviakom]

"I wouldn't have thought there was a difference," Octavia admitted. "Isn't a pencil an 'art pencil' if you just make art with it?"

[betterthanaplan]

“I mean. Yes. You can make art with any pencil.” Duke thought for a minute fiddling with the package. “You could also cut vegetables with a sword. But does that make it the right tool for the job?”

[okteiviakom]

"If it was what you had?" Octavia offered.

Likely not a very surprising take from someone so notoriously pragmatic.

[betterthanaplan]

“In a world where you can choose,” Duke said. “You’d choose the best tool. Right?”

[okteiviakom]

"Sure," Octavia replied, with the vaguest little shrug. "But I'm still gonna assume the difference between a kitchen knife and a sword is bigger than the difference of a normal pencil and an art pencil."

Which did not mean she was looking for an argument.

"You'll just have to show me the difference sometime."

[betterthanaplan]

“I think that can be arranged,” Duke agreed. “I may even use some of my . . .” He dropped the pencils back onto his chest and pulled a sketchbook from the bag. “. . . art paper”

[okteiviakom]

"Let me guess," Octavia replied, with a wry look. "The special pencils stick better onto the special paper?"

[betterthanaplan]

“Fuck, I dunno, probably,” Duke said cheerfully. “Apparently the paper has ‘teeth’.”

“Tooth”, technically. But sure

[okteiviakom]

Of course what ensued was Octavia squinting at the sketchbook for a moment, before landing at, "How?"

[betterthanaplan]

“I’ll let you know when I find out,” Duke said. “I’m still new to this stuff.”

[okteiviakom]

"Well," Octavia said. "Don't get bit?"

Fantastic art supply humor, no notes.

[betterthanaplan]

“I’ll do my best,” Duke said gravely. “I was thinking of drawing you. All sprawled on the floor like you do.”

[okteiviakom]

Octavia's eyebrows went up, just a little bit. "You'd want that?" she asked, softer - while an old, old memory suddenly sparked.

(Someone else had drawn her, too.)

[betterthanaplan]

Duke gave her a confused look. “Why wouldn’t I?”